


Pants

by DieLadi



Series: It Works! [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Spanking, boyslove, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24492379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieLadi/pseuds/DieLadi
Summary: John is desperate. He and Sherlock had a fight. Mycroft and Greg are laughing their heads off. Will everything be all right in the end?
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Series: It Works! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1769353
Kudos: 34





	Pants

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Hosen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11209680) by [DieLadi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DieLadi/pseuds/DieLadi). 



> (This is a translation of my german story "Hosen" which can be found here on AO3.)  
> Pease be aware that english is not my first language.

"Thank you," said John Watson and accepted the cup of tea that Greg Lestrade handed him.  
Greg sat back on the sofa and snuggled into the arms of his husband, Mycroft Holmes. He drew his feet up to his sofa and made himself very comfortable.  
John, on the other hand, had his elbows resting on his knees. He grasped the teacup with both hands, blew once and sucked in the hot, spicy steam.  
Then he gently took a sip. The tea tasted excellent, it was of first-class quality. Well, it's all we could expect from Mycroft Holmes.

"So, John, tell me. What is it?“ asked Greg.  
John looked up from his teacup at his two friends. He sighed.  
"Trouble with my brother?' asked Mycroft. "I'm sure it's nothing that can't be rectified."  
He smiled. It wasn't the first time that John and Sherlock had had their tatters torn out. They were a very impulsive couple, unlike him and Greg, who enjoyed their togetherness rather quietly and in harmony. Well, they also had their differences of opinion, but they usually managed to work things out without loud arguments.

John sighed.  
"Well, I'm afraid this time it's more serious."  
He took another sip of tea and started talking.  
"We were invited to your parents' house together, Mycroft, to discuss some issues about our wedding."  
Yes, John and Sherlock were due to marry in about a month's time.  
Mycroft was to be Sherlock's best man, Greg had been asked by his best friend John. They were both really looking forward to it.  
"Well, I suppose it's all downhill now with the wedding," mumbled John.

He took another sip of tea.  
"Well, Sherlock didn't fancy what he said was going to be a wretched family reunion. It's simply because your parents are planning a massive party that he doesn't want. If he had his way, after the wedding there would only be a small celebration with the closest friends and family and then off on the honeymoon. I found out he's only going through this whole circus because he thinks I want him to. But I don't. I don't want that kind of madness. and I want Sherlock to be happy.“  
(He sighed.)

"So I was going to bring this up at dinner last night and make it clear, once and for all."  
"Uh-oh," said Mycroft, sucking in the air.  
"You realise you're exposing yourself to the terrible wrath of our mother?  
"Yes", said John, "but Sherlock is worth it."  
He was silent for a moment, then went on.  
"But I never got round to it. At first, your mother would talk to us, so that we didn't get a chance to speak And I didn't want to make our position clear in passing, but in peace and quiet, clearly and distinctly.  
And then Sherlock started driving me crazy. Under the table. He was teasing me with his feet. Quite...well... intrusive. I had a really hard time not moaning in the middle of the restaurant. I tried to dissuade him. But what could I do... I couldn't talk to him, and he didn't respond to gestures and looks.  
I'm glad your parents didn't notice."  
Mycroft smiled. That was just like his brother.

"Finally, I couldn't take it any more, so I walked into the toilets. I just hope no-one saw me..."  
He blushed and said nothing.  
Greg, who was never afraid to call a spade a spade, said:  
"You had a big boner, didn't you?"  
John moaned in annoyance.  
"Yes, damn it!"  
Mycroft and Greg looked at each other and laughed.  
"You're idiots," growled John in a huff.  
"Sorry," yapped Greg, "but the very idea of it..."  
In a way, they were right. John had to grin for himself.

"Well, anyway, I was really embarrassed. He ran after me. He pulled me to the car with a big grin on his face. I was so out of it, I just let him do it to me. We went home."  
"Yes,“ Mycroft said. "Mother's already rung here to complain about your sudden and elusive disappearance.“  
"And then you went home," Greg said with a grin, "and that's when you took him on, didn't you?"  
John turned bright red and kept silent.  
"I suppose I'm right in thinking that my little brother is home now and can't sit?" Mycroft asked.

"That is absolutely correct," growled John.  
"The dear bastard will be unable to sit for a few days, in two ways."  
Mycroft and Greg looked at each other.  
"Two ways?" Greg asked.  
"Yes", said John.  
"Well, on the one hand we have..."  
He hesitated.  
„... "...shagging like rabbits," Greg suggested.  
Mycroft looked at him sternly and pushed him to the side.  
"What?! I'm just telling you what's going on!

"He's right,“ John said. "That's one of the reasons for his currently aching arse. And the other reason is my belt."  
"Eh?"  
The look on Greg's face was priceless.  
"I suppose you spanked him with your belt and he can't sit down because of that?" Mycroft speculated.  
"Yes, damn it," growled John.  
This time, Mycroft's laugh began and Greg was carried away. He couldn't be serious if his husband was laughing so hard.

John was offended.  
"Damn you both. I confess to you that I've hurt the love of my life so badly that he'll probably never speak to me again, and you're laughing your heads off?"  
The two of them got a little worked up.  
"Is that what he said,“ Mycroft asked, „that he never wants to speak to you again?"  
"No, not that... I stormed out before he got around to it..."  
"You're a fool, John", Mycroft said.  
"Honestly, someone like you, who finally manages to face my mad brother and not take his bullshit, is a godsend. And Sherlock won't hold it against you, believe me.“

"Anyway, I'm going to get my five pound from you now," Greg told Mycroft.  
He looked at John.  
"Because we've got a bet going on who wears the pants in this relationship. I bet on you. It looks like I won.“  
He smirked.  
"I get the feeling you don't take my grief seriously at all," grumbled John.  
"Of course not,“ Mycroft said.  
"I bet you the next five pound it won't take him half an hour to get here..."  
At which point, the front doorbell rang.  
A minute later, the butler entered the drawing room and turned to John.

"Dr. Watson, outside is Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He wishes to speak to his fiancé," he said emphatically, "and to say he's sorry and asks your forgiveness. And he would like to take him home again.“  
John jumped up, slammed the teacup so hard on the side table that the saucer burst, and without another word, ran for the front door.  
Greg and Mycroft grinned at each other and strolled hand in hand after it.  
They stood at the top of the stairs and watched with satisfaction as Sherlock and John held each other in their arms and kissed devotedly.

"Didn't I tell you?" Mycroft whispered with a grin.  
"I'll still get five from you," said Greg.


End file.
